That's the one thing I would wish for every daughter - that wonderful feeling of knowing that you were, are, always will be Daddy's little girl.
When I was growing up, we rarely took what most folks would consider a vacation. As a matter of fact, I remember taking two. One to Panama City and one to the Smokey Mountains. (We had to try twice to make it to the Smokies. The first time we stopped in Nashville to see family on the way and I fell and broke my arm. But that's another story.) Every year Dad would take a week off to drive my mom and her parents and sister to their hometown to visit family, but that wasn't really a vacation - and again that's another story.
But you don't really miss what you never had, so I never realized that people took a vacation every year and went to ... where ever. What I did have was my father's attention. He worked for Coca-Cola until retirement, and drove a truck for them most of that time. He spent long, hot days slinging cases of bottled Coke - loading up grocery stores, convenience stores, or small shops all over the Shoals area. I know today that when he got home he had to have been exhausted and sore. I'm sure that what he wanted more than anything was a little peace and quiet, a nice dinner, and to put his feet up and relax. What he got was a little girl who had been waiting impatiently for him to come home to play. So he played.
What I remember as vacation would sound silly to folks today. But every once in awhile, Mom would pack a lunch and Daddy would drive us to Dismal Gardens. Now I know it took us maybe an hour to get there, but it seemed like forever at the time.
Mom would unpack the lunches and hang around the picnic area and my dad and I would take off to walk the trails. It was no major hike. They were simple little nature trails. But I thought is was magical. It always seemed cooler in those woods - cooler and quieter and mysterious. I know there were other families there, but somehow it always seemed like it was just me and my dad.
As we would walk the main trail, we would find little side trails. I was always sure that grand adventures lay at the end of those trails and I would race down each one. Every time the trail would just end and I would be disappointed, standing in the middle of nowhere. I would turn around to head back and there would be my dad, standing back to let me find out for myself, but never taking his eyes off of me. Just waiting for me to realize that it was a dead end. He never tried to stop me. He let me learn for myself. But he was always there. Making sure I was safe and waiting for me to come back.
I've taken a lot of different paths in my life. Some have been beautiful and fulfilling. Others have been true dead ends. Regardless of the outcome, my father was always there - never telling me not to go, never chiding me for mistakes, always cheering for my successes, always letting me find my path - always making sure I was safe.
He's been gone a few years now. His mind had been taken from him, his wife had been taken from him, and he was ready to go. I wouldn't have wished for him to stay, but I still miss him. Somehow it makes it easier to know that one day I'll turn around and find him there, smiling and watching - waiting for me to take the right path.
Happy Father's Day Daddy! Love you, miss you, see you soon.
